The Girl with the Broken Smile
by xyouaremylobsterx
Summary: 'I never thought she would ever ask me that. Every time I see her I want to tell her, I really do. But the words never come out.' - Brittany doesn't ever lie to Santana, she just hides the truth. But that's something Santana has only ever wanted to help her with, and everyone knows that the truth always comes out in the end. - A/U


The Girl with the Broken Smile

Chapter One

Ee-eee-eeck, ee-eee-eeck, ee-eee-eeck!

Damn wobbly shopping cart, this happens every time. I never understand it, why out of all the many shopping carts out there do I always have to get the one with the wobbly wheel? It's so infuriating!

But whatever, I know that I'll just put on a smile and act like the squeaking noise that echoes around the whole store thanks to My shopping cart doesn't bother me, because it doesn't. Not one bit.

I'm used to things never working out for me anyway.

I feel like kicking the dang thing, like as if that'd magically make it start working better, but I don't want to ruin my black flats. Their not exactly new, but I have so few shoes that these are the ones I usually stick with. Plus they go nicely with my outfit, which consists of simple dark, blue jeans with a light, blue v-neck, t-shirt – I chose the color because I thought it matched my eyes, which are a faintly darker shade of blue, almost like the sky – some have said.

I'm standing in the diapers section in the middle of the aisle, I always do that when theirs no one around – it makes me feel bad somehow – one hand stretched out, holding onto the handle of the cart, whilst the other repeatedly taps my chin.

I'm staring hard at the many night-time diapers for children, aged seven and up, and for the life of me I can't seem to figure out the best one. There is just so many to choose from, and I always find myself struggling when it comes to deciding things to choose.

Searching for things like this was always so much easier when Sweetie was here too. She would at least know which one she wanted to wear and pick it herself. It's not like I haven't asked her before what her favorite was called, I'm just not that very good at remembering things. I tend to forget small things easily, like birthdays and what day it is. Only this morning Hayleigh had to remind me that today was Saturday, and that 'No' she doesn't have school today.

But this one I should know. I have to get it all the time after all – well, at least ever since _She_ left, that is.

Hmmm, still concentrating, I find myself giving up within five minutes of careful thinking and never ending pondering. I just decide to grab the one that stands out to me the most, which happens to be the one with bright pink packaging and a little girl with a huge smile on her face.

(I never understood that, the girl just _Peed_ herself during her sleep. Why, oh why would she be happy about it? Packaging confused me sometimes).

I chuck it into the cart, along with the many new sleepwear and essentials that will be needed to last us for the next month at least. Sweetie will just have to smile and put up with it if she really can't stand the one I picked for her. It's not my fault she chose to play in the park instead of going grocery shopping with me today.

You win some, you lose some, I think whilst shrugging to myself.

Now to move onto the next aisle, I look down to the neatly written shopping-list in my right hand and smile when I see that Hayleigh has added the word 'chocolate' underneath every other 'real' food that we need on the list. Not forgetting the perfectly drawn love-hearts beside each one.

I'm thinking that she's trying to tell me something… maybe something to do with chocolate. But then again it is my overly annoying – and yet sometimes cute – little sister, with her she could be hinting about anything.

Either way I know that she has been good in school lately. She's been acing every one of her tests in class – well, that's what her teachers tell me anyway – so maybe she should get a little treat. Just this once.

I smile to myself when I think of the look on her face when she sees the bagful of chocolate I decided to spoil her with this time; I can practically see the twinkle in her freshly blue, ocean eyes.

She's gonna be so happy.

Plus it's only fair, I have bought Sweetie new pyjamas, just because I felt like it – and okay, maybe it was also to do with them being so cute and pretty, but I couldn't help it, one even had a light-pink unicorn on it, looking to the side to make it seem all shy and I simply couldn't walk away from it!

Unicorns are my kryptonite, even my sisters know that.

I head over to the candy section and look up at the rows and rows of chocolate – oh great, more thinking and choosing ahead, I don't think my brain can take all this focusing and deciding all at once. This is all still so new to me, strangely enough, considering…

So which one should I go for? I'm just about to reach out for the mars-bar because I know they're her favourites before the price suddenly jumps out at me. I never usually take in the price of things to consideration. That's another thing I'm still getting used too. But I know that I really should, especially since what happened last time I came here for my weekly shopping – even just thinking about the final price gives me shivers.

I still can't believe She was there though, and so kind too as to help pay for half of it. I still remember the sparkle in those gorgeous brown eyes. The way she smiled at me, her dimples barely showing, it made my heart flutter and my insides melt.

She was like a bite of rich, velvety chocolate on a cold winter's day.

I suddenly come out of my slight daydreaming, though, when the cart wobbles and bumps into the shelves, knocking a few items off and tumbling onto the ground. I really need to stop fantasising about Her and her beautiful ways; it only ever seems to get me into trouble.

It's times like this when I'm glad my sisters aren't shopping with me. I can practically hear Hayleigh making smooching noises beside me, which in turn would lead Sweetie to twirl around on the spot, her bright blonde hair flying with her as she starts giggling and singing 'Ooo-oooh' and I'd just be left standing there blushing like crazy as my sisters humiliate me even further.

I love them, I really do. But sometimes, just sometimes, they really can get on my last nerve. I suppose that's what sisters are for though, right?

I quickly snap myself back into reality and push the cart away from the shelf it knocked into and swiftly put all the items back on it again, before anyone can see me and silently question my actions with their eyes.

I hate it when people do that. That would annoy me more than anything.

Once it's all sorted and back in their rightful places, I steer the cart away and push it back to the middle of the aisle again. I go back to facing the chocolates once more – I didn't even realise that I was moving away from them, but I guess my daydreams tend to make me lose all interest in the real world.

This time instead of reaching for the mars-bar, like I had before, I just stick to getting the cheapest bars I can find – they may not be the best chocolate but I know Hayleigh won't mind. She's used to me just sticking to the cheaper side of things now anyway. I kind of have too, since I'm not exactly made of money.

(Sometimes, I wish that were true, because then I could just get my sisters to take as many dollars off of me as they wished and have their way with the world and just spend, spend, spend. I know it would make them so happy. And that's all I ever want to do; make them happy).

I put two in the cart – because then Sweetie can't really complain – and I head out to the can's section of the list. I can't help but let out a little sigh of relief when I see that I won't need to get too much canned items. It's only sauces and a few sweet- corns and carrots, for nights when we'll have Spaghetti Bolognese or something of the sort. The girls don't mind that for dinner, so I tend to stick to light, simple food seeing as they're really the only meals I can cook off by heart.

It's not my fault I find recipes confusing.

I head to the checkout when all my shopping is complete. As I take out all the items from the cart I mentally list each one off and double check that their on the list and that I didn't just buy random food again.

I totally did that once, like after I first got paid from my first real job, and I took my first steps into the big ol' world and went grocery shopping for the first time. Their was just so much to choose from and so little time to do it in, so I ended up just buying the first things I could reach and grabbing anything that looked appealing – which turned out to be a Lot – and by the time I reached the checkout and paid for it all, I realised my many, many mistakes.

Needless to say that I certainly won't be doing that again and I haven't done that since, I smile proudly to myself.

This is why, when it comes time to pay, I find myself begging to whoever may be up their in the sky and silently plead with them to not make the price be such a shock again. It's happened one too many times now that I just find myself doing this automatically, its almost like instinct.

So when I see the cashiers face and wait for the all dreaded price to come sprouting out of her mouth, I close my eyes and clench them shut, almost drowning out everyone else and that's where I just beg and beg and beg. And somehow, this time, someone heard me.

For once, I actually opened my eyes in shock, but not because I know I'll have to work doubly hard for the next month now to even slightly make up for the lost money in my bank, but because this time I actually won't have to do any of that at all.

"That'll be forty-nine dollars, fifty, please." The lady says with a dry voice, like she's done this job far too many times in her long and unsuccessful life.

I know the feeling though, so I can relate. Very much so, seeing as I've basically spent the majority of my time working the cash register in a clothes shop, so I know just how draining that work can be.

(Especially when that clothes shop sees more people drifting in and out than actually taking the time to stop and buy something).

And people say office hours are long and tiring.

I look up to the ceiling, way up high, my eyes as wide as saucers and I praise the man from up above. Right now, I simply couldn't be happier!

With the money I've, somehow, managed to save I can take the girls out for the day and treat them to actual candy and popcorn at the movies. I won't have to worry about price or deals or whether I'll have enough petrol for the ride home. I won't have to worry about anything!

I knew today was a good day, I could just _feel_ it from the moment I woke up, listening to the birds singing outside my bedroom window and seeing the bright, clear blue sky up above. This is going to be one good weekend, for the girls _and_ for me.

After all, if they're happy than I'm happy, that's just the way it has always been.

I smile brightly at the woman sitting in front of me and I think my sudden happiness must be contagious, for the woman begins to smile back too. I think that might be the first smile she ever released today, and I'm so happy that I was the one who managed to make her do that.

I think everyone should smile everyday, even if it's just once.

I cheerfully give her the money before grabbing the bagged goods and placing the bags into the cart. I turn to leave, not before giving the woman a grateful wave 'goodbye' and she in return gives me a, barely there, wave back.

But she still waved, and she still smiled, so everything else is just minor details compared to that.

* * *

When I get out to the parking lot I quickly drag the cart to my small, slightly busted four by four (she's nothing special of a car really, but I still call her my baby. She was my first real gift to myself – and my sisters too, I suppose – after I successfully saved up for a year, my first real achievement!)

I unlock the doors and pop open the trunk from the front and then make my way to the back. I slowly round the corner of my, somewhat faded, yellow car and I reach out to the cart to begin unloading. That is, until I stop in my tracks.

My breathing suddenly leaves me and soon my eyes are filled with nothing but warm, alluring dark, brown eyes. And that smile, God her smile. All she ever needs to do is look at me with those bright, sparkling eyes and smile that glowing smile and I'm all hers. I'm hers for the taking, and you know what, I don't even care how that sounds.

"Santana," I breathe out, almost in shock and disbelief.

She's here, again. I can't believe she's here again. Then again, she is always here, well whenever I come here anyway. She does work here after all, if her navy-green apron and light green work slacks are anything to go by.

"Brittany," Santana lets out with that raspy voice of hers and a firm nod of her head.

She's standing there, fidgeting slightly under my piercing gaze. I can't help it, though, I mean it's Santana! And she's standing there, in front of me, and even in her work clothes she still looks absolutely breathtaking, with her charcoal black hair tied up in that perfectly neat ponytail of hers.

What does she expect me to do? Apart from probably run up and hug her and then breathe her in and never let her go.

But I mean, that's only ever in my dreams. I couldn't do that in real life, whether I wanted too or not.

I can't get involved, with her or anyone.

I just can't. I breathe out a hardened sigh.

With that, reality seems to wash right back into me and soon my gaze isn't staring at her so deeply, so desirably. I just simply stare at her warm eyes, and hold her gaze, and give her a small smile and wait for her to return it.

When she does it's not just small, like I expected, but it fills her cheeks until I don't think she could possibly ever smile big enough.

It's only me, though, I begin to think. She doesn't need to waste her precious smiles on me.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" I ask her nervously, stuttering a bit. I mentally curse myself for that slip-up. Why can't I just act 'cool' around her? I always have to be a blubbering mess.

I mean it's only a small crush, it's not anything more than that and I know it never will be. So I don't get why that fact won't go to my brain and stay there. Although it should probably go to my heart too as that seems to be all over the place right now, and all I'm doing is looking at her.

Oh God, I hope she can't hear how loud it's beating right now.

Thump-thump, thump-thump!

It's Always beating so loud, and I Always begin to panic, and then I blush and then she asks if 'I'm alright,' and I just say 'yeah,' and then the next thing I know I'm high-tailing it out of there, and then I'm running straight to my room to hide my shame for the rest of my living life.

But this time it's different. This time, I don't get the urge to run when my heart starts to skip a beat. This time, I stare at her, and all we seem to do is just stare and stare and stare, and yeah, I don't think I'm going to hide anytime soon.

"I just came to say 'Hi.' So, hi," Santana says, and then like magic her head begins to tilt down towards the ground and she bashfully kicks at the floor with her foot.

Is she blushing?

For a strong, Latina I didn't think it would ever be possible. And yet here she is, standing there in front of me and she can't seem to bring herself to look me in the eyes anymore. She's bringing her hand up to her side as if to almost hide her shy smile. But I don't want her too.

She has the most beautiful smile I have ever seen, and I should think she'd want to show that off to the world. I know I would, if my smile was half as stunning as hers.

"Hi," I say back, suddenly finding the other cars behind her to be a lot more interesting. I think I know how she feels now as I can't bring myself to look back at her either.

The only difference is at least Santana can hide her blush, I know mine is creeping its way up to my cheeks. It won't be long until it covers my whole face, something of which it seems only Santana can make me do. I have never really blushed this much in my life.

"Well, err," Santana begins; letting out a small cough she does so. She's so cute and she doesn't even try. "Do you, err, need any help, ma'am."

And just like that, if I wasn't sure she was blushing before I know for a fact that she is now. Her cheeks couldn't possibly go anymore red if she tried. Her eyes, which are still not looking my way, stare straight past me, but now they're so wide if I didn't know any better I'd think she'd just saw a ghost.

"Did you just call me ma'am?" I ask her, teasingly. She only grows shyer, and begins to kick at the ground again, her hands fiddling with each other in front of her.

So Cute.

"N-no, I err; don't know what you're talking about." She tries to say, straightening up suddenly and shaking her head, her arms beginning to fold across her chest.

This is her acting all 'cool,' but I know better, I can see it in her eyes. She's panicking just as bad as I was earlier.

I think seeing her blush is my new favourite thing, other than looking into her eyes of course.

I give her a nod, giving her the benefit of the doubt. Even though I know she just flat out lied to me. But I'll let this one off, seeing as I don't want her to die of blood rush to the head, if that can happen at all. I give her a big grin and decide to act like nothing ever happened.

"Err, yeah, you can help. If you don't mind that is." I tell her, looking smug as I do so.

I just made The Santana Lopez blush; I think I have every right to be smug right now.

I know Santana can see my smugness, but she chooses to ignore it. She gives me a playful smile back, the spark returning in her eyes as she nods once before helping me unload my bags into the trunk.

It's really not that much and I know she knows that I can easily do it on my own. But if she offered than I'm not about to say 'No,' besides it just gives me more time alone with her, and for that I am more than grateful.

We pack in silence, nothing more is said between us. The car park is filled with the sounds of two pairs of hands working, quite slowly, to unload the items into the trunk.

She lets out a few small coughs here and there, and I sigh every once in a while. But that only ever seems to be when I try to open my mouth only to find no words coming out, so I stick to saying nothing instead.

When we're both done and the shopping cart is now empty, I close the trunk and hear it shut with a tiny 'thump.' I grab the handle of the cart and begin to walk it back to the others to put it away, but then a warm, soft hand stops me.

I look down to see caramel skin meshed together with my own pale ones and realise that it's Her hand on top of mine. I let out a small smile at the sight.

Even her hand is beautiful.

"I-it's okay Brittany, I can take it for you." She lets out in a meek voice.

I let her words wash over me, just like her breathe that barely grazes my cheek. She's so close behind me that I can feel her heat. I can feel my heart pick up again, and I really don't know if I can do this.

I don't trust my voice or words right now so I simply nod in reply. The feel of her hand on mine is the only thing I can think about.

But then, just as quickly as it came, her hand disappears and is soon by her side once more. She lets it hang there as she waits for me to kick-start my mind back again, and when I finally do I realise that I'm just standing there, like an idiot.

She wants to take my cart back for me, meaning that I should move. And soon I'm doing just that. I fly off the handle as if it burnt me and stand stock still by my car.

Santana just stares back at me in shock, almost as if she isn't sure if I'm alright.

I know she's going to ask me that, I can see it in her eyes and the way her mouth looks like it's just about to speak.

But I beat her to it.

"I'm alright." I say, so fast that I should have won some kind of award.

I don't think she even got it right away, but when I see her slowly nod her head up and down, her forehead creased slightly I know that she figured it out in her head.

"Okay." She says with an eager smile before turning back to push the cart away.

I just stand there, shell-shocked, for a while, trying to catch my breath. By the time she returns, with no cart in hands, I'm back to myself again. At least I was, until Santana came back into view, now my breathing is going rapid all over again.

But she doesn't seem to notice and it seems during the time she disappeared she managed to bring her old, confident self back, as she's looking at me with a new fire in her eyes, that familiar smirk playing on her lips.

"You've got an awful lot of bags in there, are you having a party or something?" She asks pointing towards the back window of my car, and the playful look on her face becomes evident.

She thinks I'm having a party, is that why she came back then? Just to see if I'm throwing a huge bash, like any other 'normal' eighteen year-old would.

Is that all she's interested in then? Maybe she just wants a place to hang with Puckerman or anyone of those other guys that are constantly drooling all over her. I don't blame them, though; I do the same thing too.

"Erm, no. No party." I say simply, giving her a shrug and a tight-lipped smile.

I wish I could throw a party, like I used too before. Back when I would cheer for the football team each season and gossip and whisper about other students with my good friend, Quinn, the head cheerleader, and sit and play with Santana's hands as we both pretended to listen to what the teacher was saying in class.

Back when everything was right and normal in my world. Back when I had a life outside of home. Back when I _could_ have fun.

But it's not like that anymore.

Times change, and people change. I've changed.

I don't cheer or scream and shout in the stands anymore, and I haven't seen or spoken to Quinn in months, and Santana… well, she's still Santana.

But even then, it's hard.

And I just can't.

"Oh, okay then. It just looked like it, that's all." Santana says, suddenly going back to her shy ways, her smirk now turned into an uncomfortable smile, like as if she can't believe she just asked that.

But I'm not surprised, anyone would think that. I mean it's not everyday you come across an eighteen year-old teenager doing a whole lot of 'actual' grocery shopping. I would have asked the same thing too.

I look at my silver wristwatch quickly and see that it's already gone past three in the afternoon. Sweetie's going to be hungry, she always wants snacks at around noon, and seeing as its way past noon she's certainly going to be craving food right now. And I can only imagine the torture Hayleigh is going through at this moment just to keep her happy and entertained.

I let out a big sigh and run my hand through my long, golden locks. Well, it was nice to be 'normal' again I suppose, even for just a second. But now duty calls and I really should be going.

I face Santana again and see her giving me a funny look, like she saw my frustration and wants to know what's wrong. I can see the worry written all over her precious face.

But I choose to push through it and pretend like I don't know exactly what she's thinking. That'll only distract me and I have places to be, so.

"Well, it was nice seeing you again Santana, but I gotta be off now." I tell her, and I know Santana can see the honesty in my eyes.

It really was nice to see her. It always is.

I would never lie to her; she was one of my closest friends. My best friend. I don't think I could lie to her, even if I tried.

"Okay, it was great seeing you too, Brittany." Santana says truthfully, with a small smile playing on her lips.

I head to my car door, but just as I'm about to pull the door open, with real force (it is pretty old after all), I hear Santana's quiet voice and I freeze. It's what she said that gets me and it doesn't feel real. My eyes open in shock and surprise.

I never thought she would ever ask me that. Every time I see her I want to tell her, I really do. But the words never come out. It's like my brain just chooses to switch that part off and completely ignore it and just focus solely on her and nothing else.

But I know that she wants to know, I can see it in her eyes every time. It's their, I can _feel_ it.

I just never thought she would actually ask. But I guess I was wrong.

"How come I don't see you at school anymore?" Her words echo around my head, replying itself over and over again.

The sincerity of her words hit me straight through the guts until it feels like they're going to come spewing out of me. I feel my throat tightening up and I want to tell her. I want to tell her Everything, the whole story, from beginning to end.

But I can't.

No words come out.

My mind's gone blank and I just can't bring myself to do it.

I don't want to ruin her perfect teenaged day, like the ones that I used to have too.

I can't do that to her. So I don't.

I suck in some air back into me and my eyes squeeze, tightly, shut. My hands clench on top of the car and I can feel my heartbeat slowly going back to its original rate.

I take deep breathes and let them out again, and I know just what I should do.

The same thing I always do whenever I see Santana.

Leave.

I clench my jaw and feel hurt, pain and anger run through my veins and I can't bring myself to look her in those warm, brown eyes. I just stare straight ahead and look at the huge 'Wal-Mart' sign on the building in front of me.

"What does it matter to you?" I ask her rhetorically, bitterness evident in my voice. If I were to look at her beautiful self I know she would have winced at the sound. "It's not like it's any different. Nobody Ever saw me at school anyway!" I spit out, viciously.

I don't even bother giving her a second look, I quickly open my door, the force not really needed as I pretty much pull the handle on the door, almost snapping it off with my rage. I step inside and slump into my furry seat.

I slam my door shut and turn on my engine; I look into the rear-view mirror and see that Santana had stepped aside. Good.

She knows when to leave it, and she knows when I want to leave.

I press my foot down, hard, and grab hold of the clutch, my hands almost turning white in my sudden fury. It isn't long before I back up, give Santana a small wave out my window, shout out a 'See ya,' before driving off out of the car park, the tyres screeching in my haste.

The sun beats down on me and it almost blinds my vision, so I grab my shades from the passenger seat and slam it onto my face. I press down harder, puffing out gas from my engine and head straight home.

And just like that, I'm gone, out of her sight until we both don't know when.

* * *

_**A/N:**__ What'd you think, good enough to continue, I'd really like too. I have many ideas in mind for this, just let me know what you think by dropping a review. :]_

_- Y. A. M. L._


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